The Psychotic Husband (The Husband Series Book 3) Read online

  I don’t hurt people, Irish said, sounding confused or worried. I won’t hurt people.

  You were telling more than Irish, Ben said. She doesn’t want everybody knowing, even if it’s her psychotic husband’s multiple personalities!

  You're psychotic? Irish worried now. He’s not supposed to be psychotic, is he?

  He’s not psychotic, Frank said. I think he’s just being Captain Grumpy Pants.

  “Are you okay?” Cheryl dared asking.

  Ben turned and hurried to the bed, then decided to just sit near her. “I’m just…trying to understand.”

  “Talk to me, Ben,” she pled. “I swear, I can handle it. I’ve handled this much, what more can you throw at me?”

  She’s right, Frank agreed. I see why we picked her.

  Ben turned a look inward.

  We picked you too, Frank hurried, sensing his suspicions. And Charlie. And Alice, he tacked on. We picked all four. Right, Irish?

  Yes. He picked all of you.

  Ben paused. He who? Frank?

  No, not me, Frank said.

  Me either, Irish added.

  Well, I didn’t pick myself, Ben said. So, who?

  They both shook their heads. I seem to know but can’t say it, Frank said, feeling amazed. Irish? Can you say it?

  No. I can see it but can’t say it.

  Can you think it? Ben asked, not liking this.

  Again, they shook their head. He didn’t want us telling. He made it so we couldn’t tell.

  Great. Who was this he?

  Cheryl’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and Frank jerked with a gasp, making her pull back.

  “Frank’s not used to being touched,” he explained, grabbing her hand.

  Me either, Irish said.

  Ben felt it. He wasn’t just not used to being touched…he’d not ever touched. The puzzle had him frowning.

  I touch, Frank informed. Irish tastes.

  “Good God,” he whispered.

  “What?” Cheryl softly implored.

  He sat there, scared to voice it, but needing it out of his head. “Frank and Irish are in my head. Frank told me he had to fracture himself to keep from killing himself. Frank, can you please tell Cheryl why you fractured yourself?”

  Frank suddenly passed his hand over his head, like maybe to fix the hair he didn’t have. “Well…it goes like this,” he began. “I have these...gifts, see? And they are too strong to work together so I had to separate them. Fracture myself or else I would have episodes.”

  “Oh no,” she whispered, her empathy hitting them like a warm wave. “That was smart, then?”

  He nodded a lot. “It was. Very smart. Irish is one of my fractures, but I never met him, I only could feel him and kinda see him. Only I didn’t realize that’s who I was seeing until I saw him for real, right now, in my head,” he said excited, before staring at her mouth and whispering, “I like your lips.” He reached up like he was going to touch them then stopped, remembering he didn’t touch. “I like them,” he added, smiling a little. “Irish doesn’t like them,” he said quietly. “He doesn’t like any lips,” he further informed.

  Ben realized Irish didn’t care that he told, maybe was happy he did.

  “Ben likes you a lot,” Frank said to her, making her smile which of course drew a gasp of fascination from Frank. “She has a pretty smile.”

  “Alright Frank,” Ben said, pulling back a little when he seemed to be inching his way closer to her. “What I need to know is, how many of these fractures do you have?”

  “Lots,” he said, easily.

  God help him. “Do you have some kind of number?”

  “I do, but I can’t see it. He hid it.”

  “He who?” Cheryl asked.

  “We don’t know,” Ben informed. “They can see who it is but can’t say it.”

  “Because he didn’t want us telling,” Frank said. “It’s for our good.”

  “How do you know that?” Ben wondered.

  “I just do,” he said with a shrug. “Can we do the thing again?” Frank asked.

  “Do what thing?” Ben wondered.

  “Hit that spot inside her till it comes and does that thing that feels like we died but somehow didn’t.”

  “I can’t touch,” Irish said.

  “Who said that?” Cheryl wondered.

  “Irish did,” Ben said. “Is his voice different?”

  “It was. A little…lighter.”

  She eyed him, curious. “He can’t touch, or doesn’t want to, or isn’t allowed?”

  “Good question,” Ben wondered, waiting for that answer.

  “All three,” Irish said.

  “How are you not supposed to touch?” Ben was getting a little annoyed with his situation.

  “Right,” Cheryl echoed, sounding concerned. “You’re…in my husband’s body.”

  “Good point,” Frank said this time, smiling at her like a love-struck teenager. But what he really wanted was to reward her with a dick down her throat. “You’re so soft,” he snuck in on a whisper.

  Ben suddenly wondered. “So…how is Irish here if he’s not supposed to be able to be, without causing episodes?”

  “It’s a trick!” Frank said, happy.

  “Is that a guess?” Ben asked. “How do you know?”

  “Because we’re not having an episode!” Like that was obvious. “So, he did a trick apparently. I can’t wait to find out what it is!” Frank sucked in his breath. “I remember he said he was going to fix us!”

  “Who? The one you can’t name?” Ben asked.

  “I remember that too,” Irish said.

  “Are we fixed?” Frank wondered, going serious. “Does this mean he’s going to put all our pieces together? It’s like a puzzle,” he cried, making them bounce like a giddy kid next to her on the bed. “We’re being put together like a puzzle!” He spun to Cheryl. “Do you like puzzles?” who jumped a little.

  “Oh…I do, yes.”

  “She likes puzzles,” he strained in ecstasy, stomping his feet in joy.

  “Frank?” Ben called.

  “Yeah?” he asked, his eyes popping open.

  “I want you to remember that we share a body.”

  He sobered a little. “Okay. You want me to do something?”

  At his eagerness to be of service, Ben’s anger melted. “I just…want you to remember when you bounce us around all over, it makes us look…”

  “Too excited?” he asked.

  “Well, like…”

  “Too silly?”

  “More like—”

  “Nervous?”

  “Frank!” Ben shot out. “Stop guessing.”

  He went still. “I like guessing,” he barely said. “I won’t guess.”

  “It makes us look… childish,” Ben hurried before getting cut off.

  “Or stupid,” Irish helped.

  It was the first time Ben caught a sense of Irish’s personality. Laid back. Calm. Not easily excited. Like Frank’s opposite almost.

  “I’m not a stupid child,” Frank informed, sounding upset.

  “No,” Cheryl hurried. “You’re not at all. And I don’t mind, Ben. I accept you. Each part of you. I love each part of you,” she added, bringing Frank’s bubbling giggles.

  “She said she loves each part of us,” he whispered to them while staring right at her. “I don’t kiss,” Frank said, suddenly. “But your lips are pretty. If I kissed, I would definitely kiss them a lot. You’re a good kisser. I noticed while you kissed Ben,” he whispered. “And when you kissed our…I’m not going to say, because it’s private.”

  “God,” Ben whispered, lowering his head before needing to walk again.

  “What?” Frank worried. “I didn’t say because it’s private.”

  “Thank you, Frank. I’m not mad at you. I’m just trying to understand what’s going on with us. How many more of you will wake up in my head? When can we expect them? Why are they coming? When will we know who he is? What do we do wh
ile we don’t know what the hell is going on? I have Mr. Wong coming over to check on his patient who he knows had an episode.”

  “What kind of episode,” Irish asked.

  Frank raised his hand as Ben paced. “Can I tell him?”

  “Yes, Frank, tell him.”

  “Okay so I woke up,” Frank said, coming to a complete stop. “And there was blood all over. But before that we were having a seizure and I knew to stop it, I knew how, only now I don’t remember how I did it.

  “Irish, how did you wake up?” Ben asked.

  “I don’t know, I just did.”

  “So…” Cheryl said, getting their attention. “If this…unknown part of yourself picked us and is making it so you can be together, then… there must be something about that dynamic that is allowing it? Bringing it?”

  “Alice woke Frank when she said the riddle,” Ben said. “But what woke or brought Irish?”

  “Well…he came when…we…”

  “Sex!” Frank shouted victoriously. “The SEX brought him!”

  “You’re guessing that?” Ben asked, back at annoyed.

  “No! I know it!” he clapped.

  “How do you?” Ben shook his hands to stop his claps.

  “Like I know when I touch,” he informed. “So, we have to have sex if we want to bring the fractures out,” he said, ecstatic. “I'm really good at puzzles, and he knows I’m going to figure them out!” he bragged to their fuck-magnet.

  Cheryl pulled the cover closer to her and Ben pointed it out. “See that, Frank?”

  “See what?”

  “She’s covering herself because she’s not quite ready to engage in some psychotic, personality fuck-a-thon orgy.”

  “A…fuck-a-what?”

  “She doesn’t want to fuck a bunch of strangers in her husband’s body!”

  “But…that’s what we have to do. He decided that.”

  “Well, I didn’t decide that,” Ben countered at Frank’s desperation. “And she didn’t decide it.”

  Cheryl injected, “Whatever is—”

  Ben shot a finger at her with a grave shake of his head. “Watch what you say.” He aimed raised brows hoping to convey that her every word might feed the little fuck puppy Ben created.

  “Whatever you decide, Ben, is fine. As my husband, I’m required to do as you ask.”

  Ben wanted to kiss her for that bit of brilliance.

  “Why does she have to listen to you?” Frank wondered.

  “Because she’s my wife,” Ben said.

  “So…wives have to do what their husbands say?”

  Ben stilled at sensing a trap. “She married me before any of this happened. She married the Ben before the head transplant, so yes, she has to do what I say.”

  “Well…what do you say?”

  Ben gave a huge eye-roll at hearing the devastation hinting in his tone. “I say that we want to calm down.” That gave him another idea. “All this talk about making my wife…have sex with people she barely knows is making me want to panic.”

  “Don’t do that, panic is not good,” Frank reminded him, shaking his head.

  “Well, it’s kind of hard when I have my amazing empathy plugged into your super brain,” he reminded him.

  Maybe actual sex isn’t required, Irish said.

  Ben perked up and paused. I’m listening.

  What exactly in the sex brings it? Irish asked.

  Ben considered that. Not the orgasm, he realized. We had one before the sex.

  Are we talking in our heads? Frank asked.

  Yes. I don’t want to upset Cheryl.

  Frank darted a glance at her and spun, putting their back to her. So, what are we thinking? Maybe it’s…when she does stuff to it?

  Ben understood with all his being why Frank wanted his dick sucked by her again and couldn’t blame him for having every head he owned believing that was their salvation.

  It couldn’t hurt to try, Ben decided.

  It would hurt, Irish disagreed.

  How?

  My gift is tasting. What if I try using that?

  Ben crossed his arms over his chest. How does your gift work, exactly?

  I know completely, the things I taste.

  Ben’s brows furrowed. And I don’t know jack-shit from what I taste, other than yummy, Ben said. Are you saying eating her pussy will do something?

  “OHHHHH!” Frank shot out, covering his mouth immediately. You can’t eat her!

  I’m talking about like she ate us, Ben explained.

  She didn’t eat us, he argued.

  God you’re perfectly obtuse sometimes. I mean like she sucked us, devoured us, scraped her teeth on us. It was similar to eating but no, she didn’t chew our dick up and swallow it.

  Frank was bouncing on his feet like a nervous boxer, holding their instantly hard cock.

  God, stop, Irish begged.

  I’m sorry, Frank said, letting Ben force their hands back where he had them.

  I just need one part of her. Something non-sexual. Like…her ear lobe.

  Ben was willing to try anything that didn’t require all of them involved in sex. But… Are you saying you can bring orgasms with just that?

  I’ve never done it. But I’m willing to try, Irish said, sounding close to desperate. Another virgin. He was definitely not about to make the mistake of curing him and risk having two men that acted like horny teens in his head over-riding his control to bang his wife.

  Let’s try it, Ben decided, turning and pausing. The sight of his sleeping wife melted his heart. He wondered about her mental health and how long it had been since she’d had a decent night’s rest. He made his way to the bed and slid the cover over her.

  I can do it while she sleeps, Irish said, like this was even better.

  Ben paused, considering that. Are you sure?

  Let me try.

  What if she wakes up? Ben wondered.

  Then you explain what I’m doing and ask her to remain still and not touch.

  Ben wasn’t sure how he figured he’d forever escape engaging in sex, but he was willing to ignore that for now. Let’s do it. I’ll lay behind her?

  Okay.

  Ben went slow, not wanting to wake her for all of their sakes—except Frank's. This would likely be torture for him if he managed to be quiet and still. Ben couldn’t deny being curious about what the hell he was capable of with his taste gift.

  Don’t interrupt me, Irish warned. If you break my connection, I have to start over. And he wanted that like Frank wanted a seizure.

  Ben closed his eyes as he lowered to her ear. He parted his lips barely and before he even touched, he felt it. Waves of heat he could taste, pulsing off her. He remained that way, identifying. Ben fought not to gasp at the amazing amount of information this dude was perceiving without even tasting yet. He realized he’d just mapped out her body and had a perfect understanding of it. And the second Ben was greedy for the information, he had it too.

  He finally tasted, using only his tongue. Sliding it under her lobe, he lifted it gently and the blood in her body began to move. Irish drew his brows in concentration, their heart rate spiking at hearing the increase in her breaths. Her blood was racing, and Ben finally realized where it raced to.

  He allowed the lobe to drop, bringing her mournful moan. He repeated the move, igniting her blood again. Ben felt the pulse of their heart in his tongue and realized it beat in her blood somehow. It beat right in her clit now throbbing with need.

  Get ready.

  He swept more of his tongue under her lobe bringing an explosion of sensations that erupted in his cock. His mouth suddenly flooded with the taste and smell of her pussy, bringing heat hammering in his balls. Ben grabbed his cock, unable to stifle their groan. She let go a soft gasp and he captured her lobe between his lips. “Oh…” Her desperate plea fed whatever was happening in Irish’s gift. The rake of her nails on their scalp caused the blood in his tongue to quake and his breaths to thicken with their cock.

>   She’s awake, Ben warned right as Irish sucked her lobe with a gentle motion and groan. The suction seemed to pull in her spine, causing her body to arch in pleasure. The smell of her sex grew, and Irish opened his mouth more and sucked harder in response. Somehow their cock was attached to what he was doing, the sucking tugging gently on it. It felt amazing, but it wasn’t going to be enough for an orgasm.

  She pulled his mouth lower to her neck and his tongue danced hungrily along the skin, their breaths blasting with the pulsating heat in their body.

  “Oh God, yes,” she cried weakly.

  She stroked her fingers along her wet pussy and somehow, they felt and tasted it with their mouth.

  “I taste it!” Frank gushed, pushing their cock into her hip.

  “Yes,” Ben urged with a harsh groan as Irish opened his mouth wide and filled it with the thick muscle on her neck. The hard pulls he gave felt attached to the base of their dick and judging by her sharp cry and opening of her legs, it sucked her with the same ferocity.

  “Oh God! Suck me!”

  Ben found her pussy and slid his finger deep, right as she grabbed their cock in her fist and jerked them off. She pulled their mouth to hers and the clash of tongues sent them into fucking orbit, their orgasm pulsing out of them in biting waves of fury.

  When it was all over, Ben lay with his forehead on her shoulder, winded. Waiting. Listening. And tasting, he realized. No, Irish was still tasting. Sliding his tongue over their lips slowly. Ben identified what the sweep of his tongue meant. He was savoring. Just like somebody who had eaten the forbidden fruit and was now damned with eternal addiction. Enslaved to it.

  Ben tried to be pissed over it but was too caught up in the ecstasy of what he swirled around on their tongue. Felt like a lover taking a long drag off a cigarette after the most perfect fuck ever. Before he realized it, Ben had her tucked and wrapped in his exhausted, sated body. He listened for another voice until sleep came and convinced him that voices didn’t matter. Except the one that still beckoned to him on his tongue.

  I See You

  Ben woke to darkness, blinking until he made out where he was. The warmth and weight of Cheryl registered along his body like a delicate lightning storm of perfect knowing. Compliments of Irish, he realized, still unable to resent the remarkable gift pulsating through his mind and blood like a living force. Was almost like God had given him the gift of perceiving two people being one flesh.